


Solo

by Fathom



Category: SMITE (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Play, Barbed Penis, Masturbation, Other, Tentacles, Virginity Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-23 23:40:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9687584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fathom/pseuds/Fathom
Summary: The fastest god alive teaches an all-devouring demon how to whack it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Old, old, OLD request I did for a friend who wanted a cute Baka masturbation fic where he's a curious virgin who learns to masturbate for the first time after overhearing his bff talking to girls. :''')
> 
> Not exactly how I see the character myself, but it's a really cute headcanon that I adore, so this was fun to make.

"Whaddya mean none of you ladies are interested in a quickie? I'm the fastest god in the universe I can do it real good, real quick."  
  
Merc had been speaking to the delicate woodland waifs about this 'quickie' for perhaps twenty minutes, his attempts producing only reddened cheeks and coy giggles. The messenger god's frustration over being denied his 'quickie' burned so strongly that the observer, crouched low in a nearby tangle of thorns and thick brush, could practically smell it. He wondered why Merc wanted this mysterious thing so badly.  
  
"Yes, so we've heard." The tallest, a porcelain-skinned blonde with blue eyes and willowy limbs, giggled as she spoke. "Akantha told us all about how _fast_ you are."  
  
"Very fast indeed." A second peered out from behind a tree, this one a brunette with smiling green eyes.  
  
"Perhaps," said the third and final woman, a stocky redhead who sat upon a rock while observing her nails, "a bit _too_ fast."  
  
Merc grumbled and ground a heel into the forest litter, his hands balled into fists. "Darn it, don't listen to Akantha, she's lying!"  
  
"We're going to listen to our own kind over you." The blond glared down at him with her icy blue eyes and combed her fingers through her long silky tresses. "You're just too fast."  
  
The observer could not have been more confused. He sat upon his haunches, head cocked, and arched a hairless brow over a blue, reflective eye in confusion. A creature built for speed himself, he did not understand the notion of being too fast. Speed allowed for a cleaner kill.  
  
"Yeah, you might say we know about your habit of being," the redhead lowered her hand and leaned in towards Merc, dropping her voice to a sultry whisper for effect, " _premature_."  
  
"What?" He drew the word out in an anguished, high-pitched wail. "She's making it all up!"  
  
"And so is every other nymph whose ever had sex with you?" said the curly-haired brunette by the tree. "You're a nice boy, Mercury, but when it comes to the bedroom -"  
  
"We would so rather have your half-brother," finished the blonde, smiling.  
  
Mercury slumped forward, his hands dangling by his knees, his voice weak and defeated. "So you won't let me give you a quickie?"  
  
"No." The redhead drew a comb carved of bone from the folds of her toga and began to nonchalantly draw it through her hair. "We don't like men who nut off too early. Sorry!"  
  
"Bye, bye now," said the brunette, waving her long fingers slowly, one at a time.  
  
The three then began to change, their otherworldly departure like nothing the observer had ever seen. Still waving, her dark eyes mirthful, the brunette faded from the legs up, the ground beneath her becoming a wide swath of a thousand wild flowers. The tall blonde, clearly taking joy in Merc's frustration, shot the god a wry, foxy grin before she vanished into the wind, her body becoming a swirl of dead leaves that streamed skyward in looping coils as she departed. The last, the redhead, paid the man no mind as she continued the comb her hair and melt into the soft moss that covered the rock upon which she sat like a loving blanket.  
  
When the trio of women had at once faded into the wilderness, Merc hit his knees and began to bang at the sides of his winged helmet in bitter humiliation. "No! Damn it, damn it, damn it!"  
  
The observer felt an intense and abrupt self consciousness about the thorn bush in which he hid. What if it too was some strange transformable nature woman? He remembered all the times he'd pissed on countless stumps, rocks, and trees. Had any of _them_ ever been these strange women? The observer possessed very little shame, but that idea horrified him into blushing. On all fours, he scrambled out of the thorns, fearing they might be one of the women, and hurried to his dismayed friend's side. He no longer cared that he stood watch on a scene that he probably shouldn't have been witness to. He had to get away from the potential thorn-woman.  
  
"Merc!" The observer glanced over his shoulders, narrowing his eyes in wary suspicion at the offending bush. "Merc, what was that? Who were they?"  
  
"Nymphs," he said, speaking as though he were alone, still whining and not looking up from the shield of his hands. A moment passed and he realized with a lightning fast start that he was no longer in solitude. "Oh crap, what the heck are you doing here, Baka? How much of that did you hear?"  
  
Mercury's slate grey eyes were wider than a full moon and his cheeks had become redder than the feathers that crested his helmet. Baka did not understand why the contents of Mercury's conversation held such weight. The asura was far more interested in the nymphs themselves.  
  
"Um, all of it?" Bakasura shrugged, feeling awkward when Merc's face turned impossibly redder.  
  
"They're lying, I swear to every other god I know they're lying about me." As he spoke, his nervous speech accelerated, growing so fast the asura struggled to understand his agitated friend's words. "They're just making it up to piss me off. All that stuff you heard about me nutting off too early? Don't believe it."  
  
"Merc."  
  
"Nymphs are such bitches, even if they're hot, you should never have sex with a nymph." Merc began to pace back and forth in a straight line. "They will make up all kinds of lies about you and then they will tell it to all of their friends."  
  
"Merc."  
  
He made a loud noise that sounded like something between a groan and a sob, and threw his pale arms in the air. "And damn it, I can't believe one of my guy friends heard her load of crap. I want to die."  
  
"MERC!" Bakasura felt as though he no longer existed in the same space as Mercury; the other man lived only with himself and his misery.  
  
"I'm sorry, what?" Merc's eyes looked watery.  
  
"Um." It was now Baka's turn to be embarrassed. He felt his cheeks flush as he rubbed the back of his head uneasily, tracing a claw along the haphazard stitching that held his hood together. "I get that you're embarrassed and stuff about what they said to you, but, uh, I don't really understand what you're talking about." Something told him, some primal, internal sense, that whatever Merc was talking about, it was something he should have possessed knowledge of. Yet, he did not, so he hesitated, feeling his cheeks grow hot with dark blush, as he raised the question.  
  
"The heck do you mean?" Merc's tone traded anxiety for a hint of annoyance.  
  
Baka grinned nervously, afraid to look Merc in the eye. "What is 'nutting off'?"  
  
The whole forest seemed to descend into silence until Merc shattered it by making a rude noise with his lips. "C'mon, Baka, that joke ain't even funny."  
  
"I'm serious," said the asura. "I don't know what it is."  
  
Merc sighed. "You know, when you masturbate?"  
  
"Master-what?" Bakasura felt his whole body grow warm with shame as he shrugged.  
  
"You know, rub one out? Jerk it off?" Merc curled his fingers inward and moved his hand quickly in an up and down motion. "Fondle your dongle?"  
  
Baka shrank back at the intensity of Merc's delivery. "No."  
  
"By Olympus, have you never touched your own dick?" The messenger yelled so loud the birds roosting in the trees startled and made a frightened departure into the cloudless sky.  
  
Bakasura shyly traced a finger around the round, blue jewel adorning the center of his belt. "I only ever touch that when I have to piss."  
  
"Never just for fun?"  
  
"Nope."  
  
Merc dragged a hand slowly down his face in exasperation. "Holy crap, I can't believe you've never wanked it off. Does it at least get hard when you think about girls? I know you like girls, I've seen the way you look at my sister, don't think I don't know."  
  
Baka flushed at the comment about Artemis. "Y-yeah but once it would start to do that I'd be afraid to touch it, so I'd think about food or something else until it went away." He cursed his own honest nature when he saw Merc's expression - a combination of second-hand embarrassment and revulsion.  
  
"And to think I used to think you were cool. Okay, my friend," Merc put his arm around Baka's wide shoulders, making sure to carefully avoid the demon's horny protrusions, "I have a task for you. I want you to go home and think about girls. I want you to be a man and touch your hard dick until you jizz all over the place. And don't talk to me until you do, 'kay?"  
  
"Uh, alright."  
  
"Good." Merc patted Baka warmly on the back and gave him a shove. "Now go home and think about girls."  
  
Baka stumbled away, wondering how he was ever going to do this because he didn't even know what jizzing meant.  
  


* * *

  
  
It was embarrassing, to stand there alone in his dark cave dwelling with his pants down and his cock exposed to the open air, the draft caressing it uncomfortably, but he felt he needed to redeem himself to Mercury and fulfill the messenger god's request. Baka's face colored darkly just looking at the flaccid organ, its myriad barbs pressed flat against the shaft. He only ever touched it to pee. For any other function was entirely alien.  
  
But if he had to touch it in order to 'jizz', then so be it. He couldn't let Merc down.  
  
He drew the soft tip of a finger along the length of his shaft, gently plucking the grooves of each barb along the underside of his cock until he reached the tip. He sucked in a sharp breath when his cock began to harden and the barbs began to rise. Upon the head of his cock, a tiny pearl of clear liquid leaked out and came away in the form of long, wet thread when he dabbed it with his finger.  
  
Was this supposed to happen? He'd never seen this happen before to himself, but it felt so...good. He surmised that anything that felt this nice, this warm had to have been okay. This must have been what Merc was talking about. He hadn't realized until then that his heart had been fluttering about in his chest like a trapped bird, he felt so nervous.  
  
With growing confidence, he settled himself down into the nest of stolen pillows and blankets that was his bed and began to stroke at the growing fire between his legs, watching with an almost innocent curiosity as it hardened further, the barbs standing like rows of attentive soldiers and the fluid running in tiny streams. The heat, he found, soon blazed from a warm tingle to a tight burn that made him squirm and clench his fangs as the pressure of an unspent release built in the space between his legs.  
  
With the tension and the tight, electric tingling that engulfed his entire cock, there came a certain sort of heated euphoria that soon forced him to involuntarily thrust his hips into his palm and bite his thin lips against ecstatic cries that caught in the back of his throat, trickling out instead as whimpers and moans. Yet he still feared aspects of the strange act, and as the tension began to mount, climbing towards its peak, about to reach the explosive unknown, he stopped, the mouth in the center of his torso twitching as he sucked in deep breaths. Beads of sweat appeared across his brow. The barbs still stood at rapt attention, waiting for their owner to finish tending to their needs.   
  
He had an idea, and for a moment it made him sick, his innards churning as if he'd stuffed himself with an entire village, but at the same time, it was exciting and he stifled a moan when he felt his cock stiffen impossibly further at the thought. After all he had done with his privates this evening, how could anything be more depraved? All or nothing. It would probably feel nicer than his hand anyway.  
  
Thought the sight of it filed him with a sickening sense of shame, Baka allowed the toothy, vertical split down his stomach to open, freeing his triad of thick, tentacular appendages that typically served only to grab his prey. He coiled one hot, ropy tendril around his cock, twitching at the heated softness of his own touch. Slowly, tightening and relaxing the length of the coil, Baka wrapped the tentacle up the shaft of his cock, thick globs of pre leaking from the head to join the slick coating of saliva that now glazed his entire dick. He gave his cock a firm squeeze, whimpering in delight as he felt himself grow closer towards the edge. He was not, however, ready to release himself yet, so he gently, with a teasing slowness, drew the grip of his tentacle downward towards his balls.  
  
On the way back up, Baka added a second tentacle, now teasing his stiff cock in one direction with the first, and in the other with the second, stroking every barb, each raised high for attention. His fingers he kept busy with the head of his cock, petting it over and over, curiously watching the spidery strands of pre stick between his soft finger pads.  
  
The demon's body felt like it was ablaze, his lower half felt full and tight, but he didn't want to cum yet. He still felt curious about something. Merc hadn't mentioned it; it had been his friend Art mocking her other brother. Back when she first mentioned it, Baka hadn't understood and went along with her story simply for the sake of going along, but now he believed he understood.  
  
"He used to put his in guy's asses all the time, until he accidentally killed his favorite one with a ceramic discus," Art had said with a scoff void of any sympathy for her sibling and his aforementioned lover. "He turned him into a flower as an apology and that was the end of Apollo's affairs with men."  
  
Baka had no interest in men, were he to ever do this with another being he could only see himself allowing for a woman to touch him (that woman with the snake hair seemed like a nice candidate, but he was always far too shy to even speak with her, and he liked Art a great deal as well, but he would never ask her out for fear of being disowned, or at least shot in the asscheek with an arrow), but with himself he could do anything he pleased. Here alone, he at last gave into the notion that there was nothing to be ashamed of. No one could mock him or judge him for what they could not see. He didn't even have to tell Merc about it, if he didn't want to.  
  
Baka crawled forward onto his hands and knees, panting heavily now as he continued to pleasure himself with the first two tentacles snaking around his cock from the depths of his stomach mouth, the toothy opening twitching in time with every thrust of his hips. He took the third unoccupied tentacle, its entire length glistening with saliva, and pressed its rounded tip against the virgin opening of his ass.  
  
Teeth clenched, he flinched when he tried pushing it in, the tight entrance resisting against the delicate pressure. Smearing the entrance with a thick coating of saliva from within his cavern-like maw, Baka pressed it again to the hole, exerting more force this time, and he hissed, both in pleasure and pain, when the wet tip slipped inside.  
  
It felt sharp at first as his body was forced to stretch around the tentacle in ways it wasn't designed to, but still, he could see why Art's wretched little brother enjoyed indulging in such an act with other men. Baka coiled the tendril out of his belly-mouth like a thick, fleshy rope, filling his ass with hot, dripping lengths of that massive purple cord. Baka purred deeply, still caressing his cock with the other two tentacles as he explored the uncharted areas of his own body with the third, the electrifying sensation in his groin radiating through his thighs, making his limbs shaky and weak.  
  
Baka did not know how far he could pump his own indigo tendril into his ass, only that he enjoyed the tightness that it offered him, so he pushed it in as far as his body would allow, filling himself as much as he could, both mouths panting heavily with wild abandon as he worked all three tentacles on both ends of his trembling body. And then he hit it; that masculine pad of nerves located high up in his body. He didn't know it existed, it was a secret waiting to be discovered among the many he'd already unearthed that evening, and it hit him as an explosion, a bright detonation among many smaller sunbursts. Every corded muscle locked up as an electrifying sensation chased through every limb; racing from his groin and outward to toes, fingers, his heated, but grinning, face. Claws tore rents into pillows, sending out little clouds of white stuffing while their owner lost control of his fingers. He forgot to breathe from his face, and each breath came heavily in deep gasps from his belly-mouth.  
  
White strings of cum shot up from his cock to coat his belly in a warm rush and to run in miniature rivers over the tentacles that still ran lazily up and down the length of the shaft. The surge of liquid surprised him, and perhaps might have scared him, but he was too high on pleasure, too focused on the exquisite tingling that radiated throughout, to feel anything but satisfaction as the warm liquid dribbled down his tentacles and onto his bedding in a sticky puddle.  
  
Bakasura looked down at his barbed cock, the little points already starting to settle along the now-flaccid shaft, and he laughed so hard and so loud that the sound echoed off the stone walls of his cavernous home. Gingerly, he removed the tentacle from his ass and slid all three back into the depths of his belly-mouth, his body aching and spent. He never felt so pleased yet so tired and ready to settle down into the nest of pillows and blankets he called a bed, despite how he'd torn and soiled them during his moment of carnal rapture.  
  
Oh well. Sleep called, and he was a man who had to sleep. He could always pilfer more off of random villagers' clothes lines during the dead of night to replace those he'd destroyed.  
  
Now at least he knew, truly knew, what Merc meant by 'masturbate'. And damn did it feel good. He couldn't wait to tell him about it. _All_ about it.


End file.
